Reminiscence
by Lady Penguin
Summary: COLLECTION. A collection of drabbles, one shots, and short shorts based on the Inuyasha characters. Living in a world of romance, deception, hope and corruption they weave their own tales. Misc. Pairings.
1. I Something Beautiful

Disclaimer: all Inuyasha characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi… please, I'm just an amateur writer.

A/N: these are just drabbles, short-shorts and one-shots that I have posted in various livejournal communities, and now I've gotten off my lazy butt and decided to post all of them—one at a time, though. So enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated.

The first one you see here is a Naraku / Kagome, but there will be InuKag as well as other canon pairings. I'll add new drabbles/one-shots/short-shorts as I write them. Enjoy!

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_Something Beautiful_

Rating: R / M

Pairing: Naraku / Kagome

Genre: Romance / Dark

Words: 404

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When it is night, she loses herself to him. With a waiting heart and a throbbing body she closes her eyes and breathes anxiously. When her conscience leaves her, when all that is right and wrong fail to distinguish themselves, she flies free.

He comes to her quietly, but not gently.

He makes her forget.

She forgets Inuyasha. She forgets the skipping heartbeat of unrequited love as cold fingers clasp around her wrist, pulling her harshly to his hard frame. She willingly follows, with her loneliness close behind. She leans against the cold warmth, aching and crying in the depths of her pure and broken heart.

He raises a tapered finger to her cheek and lightly traces its soft curve. He murmurs nothing sweet to her, only promises of death and suffering so painful that it makes her feel each gash, each slash, each break deep inside. He tells her of his heart, black and so utterly empty that even as he touches her he can feel nothing.

Nothing except for the excitment coursing through his veins, the rage that boils deep beneath his pores and the wonderful thrill of corruption. There is nothing gentle in his heart, or tamed. He tells her that there is no hope, no tomorrow and no turning back.But with his breath on her face, with the corner of his lips pressed to hers… he makes her forget.

She tips her head back, eager and waiting and crying and hurting so bad that she quivers. He touches his lips to hers, and she trembles with both lust and disgust. And when he crushes the length of his body to hers and meshes their flesh together by dragging her body against his, she whimpers so softly and perfectly.

He makes her forget.

She breathes in his intoxicating scent, burnt and metallic and wicked. It surrounds her, burns upon her tongue until she nearly chokes with her tears and her desires and her heartbreaks.

In her nightmare they hold each other, moving to a gentle and meaningless rhythm.

But in his infested heart, she sees something beautiful.

And he makes her forget.


	2. II In Memory of Rain

A/N: I wrote this drabble for a livejournal Inuyasha fanfiction challenge community ( http : www. livejournal . com / users / iyficchallenge ) and surprisingly enough, it won second place there. Read, enjoy and leave a comment, if you please.

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_In Memory of Rain_

Rating: G / K

Pairing: none, SessRin platonic

Genre: introspective / angst

Words: 272

Rin remembers being washed away by the rain. With her back to all the jeers and angry, contorted faces, she stares silently into the murky puddles. With each climb and struggle to her feet, they push her back down and tell her she's not wanted. She doesn't blame them, nor does she hate them.

Rin is dirty and worn and beaten and so alone. More than that, Rin is hungry and cold and wet and shivering. The rain pours loneliness onto her and its icy needles remind her that she has no place to come home to. Rin hates the rain, hates it, hates it with clenching fists and wet palms that slickslap against pools of water.

Rin does not know that the rain is willing to accept her.

Falling, falling, the rain could wipewash the muddy stains from her cheek and rinse away her tears. If only she would let it. But Rin is stubborn and clinging and trying and suriving. She wants to run to the sleet of silver, wants to shout, wants to dance and wants to embrace the mercurial waterfall. But she is scared and her body trembles at its freezing touch. So, she hides from the raindrops-that-seek.

That was before she died.

Now...

She curls up against softness and warmth, breathing in the fresh scent of grass and soaked wood. The sound of the rain is enough to lull her to sleep, and the security that her Sesshomaru-sama provides is quiet and safe. Rin loves the rain, loves it, loves it with gentle smiles and unspoken kindness that drown even the heaviest downpour away from her heart.

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	3. III Flowers

A/N: This is a drabble for a livejournal community, 30shards. I claimed the pairing, Naraku/Rin so please be forewarned that this a romantic drabble centered around Naraku and Rin. Feedback is always welcomed.

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_Flowers_

Rating: R / M

Pairing: Naraku and Rin

Genre: romance / angst

Words: 410

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_Pluck._

She grabs them carelessly, gathers them into her hands, and smothers them with her tiny fist.

_Pluck, pluck._

The wind whispers to the flowers quietly, tickling their delicate petals with sweet nothings before their death. Then, the flowers are severed and taken away with blithe pleasure.

_Pluck, pluck, pluck._

The flowers are so pretty in her hands, so pretty and beautiful and dead. Others are left behind. They are not pretty enough to die. Their bodies remain intact, swaying in the wind, a macabre dance for the chosen ones.

Go a little farther, and _pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck_.

Her companion does not see her, nor does he want to. His bulbous eyes are closed, and his mouth is open with sounds of sleep. She giggles softly, and wanders farther with her death march.

Her bare feet crush the flowers softly, suffocating them, _choking_ them. They squish beneath her, render the petals to small pieces and stick to the bottom of her small feet.

They tremble as she bends over to reach for them. The wind is whispering, comforting and false.

_Pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck, pluck._

She stops and looks around her, a little lost and confused. The wind gently glides over her body. It caresses her ears, strokes her neck gently, and whispers to her. It tells her of flowers, plucked and broken away, their vibrant colors seeping onto her little palm.

"Just like my soul," it purrs. "Bleeding on your hands, red and purple. Look."

She looks down, and sees the red and purple corollas that were accidentally crushed inside her hands. They look pretty against the milky white flesh of her palm.

_So pretty and dead_.

The wind curls around her legs, wrapping themselves around her thighs. "You are too old to be picking flowers," it licks at her ear.

"Rin will always be little," she whispers back.

It tugs at her hair. "That is what he told you."

"He never lies to Rin." She closes her eyes, and mewls a little when it blows softly against her inner thigh.

"You will die one day, and he will leave you." Farther, farther up, it breathes.

Her knees are trembling. Something curls inside of her tightly. "He will never leave Rin. Never."

A warm gust makes her shudder.

"He will. Then you will be so pretty," it whispers, "so pretty and dead."

She glances down at her flowers, crushed and choked and so wonderfully pretty.

_Pretty and dead_.

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	4. IV Normal, Whatever That Was

A/N: a Souta drabble for livejournal's iy fic challenge community and it placedthird there, along with another one called "Devil's Workshop." This was for the theme "childhood." Enjoy!

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_Normal, Whatever That Was__  
_Rating: G / K  
Pairing: none  
Genre: introspective, general  
Words: 269

Souta liked to believe that he had a normal childhood, whatever that was.

Today his sister had syphillis and snoutfalyphilitis and toofapox and a tumor growing right on top of her cancerous mole. It wasn't so bad. Yesterday she had silenphelia, telenfolio and worms. He wasn't worried, though. His sister was a world away, bound by reasons he couldn't possibly understand, but he knew very well that white hair and a pair of fluffy ears were part of them. His sister was safe, though… safe and well in that other world of hers.

But every once in awhile… Kagome would poke her head right in his door and on the top of her lungs (just to spite him) she would yell, "dinner time!"

The banter that followed didn't anger him, frustrate him (well, maybe a little) or even annoy him. It was normal for siblings to argue, and when she ruffled his hair in that Older-Sister way he would (as he always did) stick out his tongue at her and huff away. Then, the warm steam of the rice would fill his lungs and spread rapidly to his chest, where it lightly touched his heart.

When he went to school, he'd sometimes stare (not that he was jealous or anything) at his friends walking with their older sisters or brothers, and thought of his own—the one that was destined for far greater things than walking her little brother to school.

"Souta-kun, wait up!"

He stopped to wave at Hitomi, giving her a shy smile and a welcoming inclination of his head.

Yeah, he was normal.

Whatever that was.

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	5. V Hyacinth

A/N: Wrote this for a community in livejournal called 30shards. Enjoy and please remember to review!

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_Hyacinth  
_Rating: R/M  
Pairing: Naraku and Rin  
Genre: dark, romance  
Words: 751

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On the sidewalk of a busy street, she sees him.

She is sixteen and it is the second day of January.

"_Do I know you?"_ she asks with a hesitant smile.

"_No."_ he tells her before walking away.

"_Why do we keep meeting each other?"_ she asks. It is the fifth time they've met and today it is in front of a grocery store. He is buying plums.

"_We live in the same city,"_ he points out.

"_Still, it is a coincidence."_

"_Maybe you're right."_

He turns to go, but she calls out for him.

"_Hey!"_ She nibbles on her lower lip in shyness. _"What is your name?"_

"_Kumori."_

She nods with a smile.

"_I'm Hana."_

He stares at her for several moments before walking away.

After the seventh time, she notices that he has a tattoo of a spider on the back of his neck. His dark hair is loosely tied in a messy throng, and she has a thought to run her hands through them. A blush creeps across her cheeks and she distracts herself by talking.

"_This is getting weird, ne?"_ she asks him as he is reading the daily news.

He doesn't answer her.

"_I mean, we keep meeting and all."_ She looks at him for any signs of response.

Then,

"_What do you do for a living?"_

"_I'm a professor at the university in Tokyo."_ He replies.

"_Ah."_

Approximately four seconds tick away before she speaks again.

"_There is a spider on your neck." _She informs him pointlessly. _"I mean, your tattoo."_

"_Mhmm."_

They sit together in silence until her bus comes.

It is springtime and she has a flower in her hair.

He thinks it suits her well and tells her so.

"_Thank you,"_ she says with a bright smile.

Somehow, he feels that it is not the correct type of flower.

"_You need a hyacinth, Hana."_ He informs her suddenly.

She turns to look at him in surprise. _"That is my favorite flower!"_

Somehow, he thinks he already knew.

It is summertime and on a lazy afternoon, he thinks of bringing her home with him. He fights with himself all day long; she is too young, she is too pure and she is too good for him.

Of course, he loses and forgets to grade yesterday's midterm papers.

He hates himself when he dials her number and asks her to join him for dinner. He hates himself even more when she says yes.

She is dressed in a soft pink dress and there is a hyacinth tucked right above her right ear. He invites her in and in the threshold there are dark thoughts, slicked with sweat and dirty.

"_Your house is very dark,"_ she comments.

"_The light bothers my eyes."_

"_Oh?"_ she picks up a small porcelain figure of a purple spider.

"_Would you like something to drink?"_

"_Water would be fine."_ She tells him. _"You must like spiders a lot, they're everywhere."_

"_Yes, do you like them?"_

She hesitates, not wanting to hurt his feelings. _"No, they scare me."_

He does not say anything and brings back a glass of water for her.

"_You cook very well," _she compliments, "_this is very delicious."_

"_Thank you,"_ he simply replies.

When they are done and he has finished drying the last plate of dishes, she gets up to walk over to his couch.

"_I think I have met you before."_ She insists.

"_Of course, that is why you are here now." _He sits down next to her, too close. But she doesn't mind. _"I would not call a girl I have never met to my house."_

Of course, this is not what she means.

"_I mean…before all of this." _She turns to look at him with searching eyes. _"I think I remember you from somewhere."_

He leans in towards her body and wants to curl, wrap and crisscross himself inside of her. Of course, now he is only a breath away. He is crazy, but he is sure he can feel the goose bumps on her thigh.

"_Don't you feel that we've met before?"_ she is desperate, grasping and holding and pulling at something that she should never remember.

"_Does it matter?"_

"_No, I suppose not."_

Suddenly, she is very aware of his body heat.

"_You are much too young, Hana."_ He tells her.

She closes her eyes and sighs against his chest.

"_Does it matter?"_

Suddenly, he is very aware of her curves against his body.

"_No, I suppose not."

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_


End file.
